


Chasing Kisses

by teh_kris_eh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Enchanted Mistletoe, F/M, First Kiss, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry Potter is a Good Friend, Hermione's Nook's Kissmas 2020, Kissing, Mistletoe, Non-Canon Relationship, Not Epilogue Compliant, POV Marcus, Post-Hogwarts, Quidditch, Quidditch Player Harry Potter, Quidditch Player Marcus Flint, Secret Relationship, public kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:42:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28295502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teh_kris_eh/pseuds/teh_kris_eh
Summary: Marcus Flint was probably not what anyone would ever describe as "Prince Charming". He had a tendency to screw up his relationships before they even really started. Can he fix this one before it's too late? And during the middle of a quidditch match, at that?
Relationships: Marcus Flint/Hermione Granger
Comments: 22
Kudos: 60
Collections: Hermione’s Nook Kissmas





	Chasing Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Hermione's Nook's Kissmas Fest 2020!
> 
> Pairing: Marcus Flint/Hermione Granger  
> Assigned Kiss: First Public Kiss  
> Holiday Theme: Enchanted Mistletoe, Holiday Party
> 
> Alpha/Beta love to [LivininCorsets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivinginCorsets). Any remaining errors are my own!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter series, I just enjoy playing with the characters! Scene inspired by A Cinderella Story.

_Kiss me in sweet slow motion_  
_Let's let everything slide_  
_You got me floating, you got me flying_  
(This Kiss - Faith Hill)

“What is going on tonight, Flint!?”

Marcus Flint nearly growled at his fellow Puddlemere United chaser in response as they flew in a tight-knit formation toward the chasers of the Falmouth Falcons to try to regain possession of the quaffle that he had managed to lose - _again._

He was off his game tonight. And it was all _her_ fault. 

Ok, so maybe he was partially to blame. Or mostly to blame. Or fully to blame. _Fuck_. What did it matter at this point? She was all that he could think about and it was _really_ causing his game to suffer tonight.

He risked a glance toward the box seats reserved for friends and family of their team and caught sight of her. She hadn’t missed a game since Potter joined the team last season, so he supposed that he shouldn’t be surprised to see that she had still come. He didn’t know if her being here made things better or worse. 

He shook his head and tried to refocus, but it was pointless. His mind kept going back to the British and Irish Quidditch League holiday party three nights ago. That’s when things went tits up. 

She had looked like something out of a dream, wearing dress robes in emerald green. She had done something with her hair to calm it from its normal riotous curls into more sleek ones. It had seemed to Marcus that the eyes of every male in the room had been on her.

And she was _his_. 

Well...almost, anyway. They had been on quite a few dates within the last couple of months but had decided that it was best to keep things quiet for the time being. But while they may not be official, he had quickly realized that she was the witch for him. 

If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t fully understand what she had seen in him to want to even go on a date with him in the first place. But she had asked him to join her for dinner that first night and he certainly was not going to complain. 

Things had been going well at the party. The food was good. The Firewhisky was flowing. He had even gotten to dance with her. 

And then, suddenly, things took a turn. 

She had gotten herself stuck under some enchanted mistletoe. He had _wanted_ to go to her rescue, but he knew that he couldn’t if they wanted to keep their secret. She had tried to beckon him over to her to help her get out, but he had shaken his head and sent Potter to her instead.

Which apparently had been a _huge_ mistake.

After Potter released her from the damned mistletoe with a kiss on the cheek - why he hadn’t thought of that, he didn’t know - she had looked at him with tears in her eyes and had left. 

He hadn’t been sure what had upset her so much at the time. Potter had been quick to set him right and had given him a pretty thorough telling off. Apparently, she had told him about them at some point.

According to Potter, she had somehow gotten it into her head that him not going to her under the mistletoe meant that he didn’t want to acknowledge what they had. Or that they didn’t have anything at all. Or that he was ashamed to be seen with her and didn’t want anyone to know that they were together if that is what they were. That maybe it was because of her blood status, even.

How she had quickly jumped to those conclusions was beyond him. Or how Potter had been able to get all of that out of her within about thirty seconds between when he joined here and when she left the party.

He had tried to set things right with her right afterward, of course. He owled her. Tried to floo-call her. But she wouldn’t answer him. 

And now he was playing what was _easily_ the worst game of quidditch he had played since he went pro. And she was sitting in the family and friends box, watching. 

He caught a pass from one of his teammates - he wasn’t even sure who - and quickly flew toward the goals, where he attempted and failed to score. He groaned as the quaffle missed the hoop, about ten feet too low. 

He took off toward the other end of the pitch quickly, choosing to ignore the comments from his teammates. He caught sight of her again as he flew past the box where she was sitting. She looked lovely in her Puddlemere jumper, hair wild and cheeks rosy from the cold December wind. 

He was also quick to notice that she seemed to be looking everywhere but at him. He had bollocksed this up. 

Marcus knew that he needed to find a way to fix this. Or, at the very least, to get her to agree to talk to him so that he could apologize. Even if she wanted nothing to do with him romantically at this point, he needed to let her know why he had sent Potter to release her from the mistletoe instead of going to her himself. He had thought that they were going to keep what they had between them quiet for a while longer. And he had assumed that kissing her in front of the entire quidditch league and at least three ministry departments - her own included - was something that she wouldn't have wanted. 

His reasoning had _obviously_ been flawed. He wasn’t sure how, as they hadn’t discussed going public anytime soon, but he hadn’t meant to hurt her and make her believe some of the things Potter had brought up.

Quaffle in his possession again - when had that happened? - he quickly turned his broom around and flew back toward their goal. He managed to dodge one bludger, but the second one had come as a surprise and hit him in the shoulder, dislocating it and causing him to drop the quaffle. 

Luckily, Oliver Wood - their team captain - was quick to catch on that he was injured and called for a time out. 

He landed and joined his teammates on the field, where a medi-wizard made quick work of fixing his shoulder. Unfortunately, the injury was not the only reason that Wood had called for a timeout. 

“What the hell is wrong with you today, Flint? You’ve been playing like shite.” 

Marcus rolled his eyes as the medi-wizard checked his shoulder again to ensure that he had a full range of movement before clearing him to continue playing. “I’m well aware, Wood. I’ve been distracted…”

“Well, that much is obvious. Get it together or we are going to have to request a sub for you.”

“I’m trying, mate,” he growled, his eyes moving to where he knew she was sitting. 

“Try harder, then.”

Marcus caught sight of her again and watched as she stood up, hugged Ginny Potter, and started to make her way down the front row of the box toward the stairs. His heart dropped. She was leaving.

He couldn’t let her leave without doing something. He was seriously worried that he wouldn’t see her again soon - she had been making a point to ignore him - and by the time he did, that it would be too late. Potter had said that she just needed time to calm down, but he didn’t know if that was a risk that he could take. 

He needed to do _something_. Something to prove to her that all of the things that she was worried about were not true. Something to show her how much he cared for her and that he wanted the whole world to know that she was his and he was hers.

Suddenly, inspiration struck, and he knew just what he needed to do. 

“Wood! How much time do we have left before play resumes?” Marcus practically shouted at Oliver, cutting off his rant about his lack of focus.

“A minute and a half,” Wood replied. “Why -”

“Be right back,” Marcus cut him off, quickly mounted his broom, and flew away from his team. He could hear the announcer saying something about him as he reached the box, but couldn’t be bothered about what was being said. She was now walking up the stairs toward the exit.

“Granger!” He yelled, landing in the box, much to the surprise of the crowd seated there. She stopped and turned around at the sound of her name, staring at him with wide eyes. He dropped his broom and took the steps two at a time to reach her.

“Flint,” she said, looking at him hesitantly as he approached. “What are you doing?”

“What I should have done at the stupid holiday party.” 

He wrapped one of his arms to her waist, pulling her close to him, and tilted her chin up gently with his other hand while he leaned in slowly to give her a chance to pull away if she wanted to, before _finally_ capturing her lips with his. 

He first felt her tense before she quickly relaxed in his arms. He moved to pull away, intending to keep the kiss chaste, but she moved one of her hands to the back of his neck, preventing him from breaking the kiss. His hand that was on her face quickly found itself tangling in her hair as he felt her tongue slide against the seam of his lips in a request to deepen the kiss, which he was all too happy to oblige. 

Nothing else mattered at that moment. Not the crowd. Not the game. Nothing but them.

Someone cleared their throat loudly from a few steps down, bringing them back to reality. Marcus broke the kiss with a groan, and they both turned their heads toward the sound of the disruption, still wrapped in each other's arms. 

He was surprised by the overwhelming sound of applause and whistles that flooded his senses. He may have even blushed. 

Well, the kneazle was certainly out of the bag now. 

“Hermione,” Potter greeted with a smirk and a nod. “Flint, Wood sent me to collect you. Play is about to resume and we need you on the pitch.”

“Be right there,” Marcus replied shortly before turning back to the witch in his arms, suddenly nervous. “Will you meet me after the match?” 

Hermione smiled up at him and nodded. He grinned at her and leaned down to drop a quick kiss onto her forehead before grabbing his broom off the ground and rejoining his team on the pitch. 

At the end of the game, he was certain that he had never played better in his life. He exited the locker room, quickly found his witch, and wrapped her in his arms. If he had it his way, he would never have to let her go. 


End file.
